


To know him better

by orphan_account



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Albert helps, Arthur is hurt, Arthur's high at one point, Blood, Blushing Albert, Fluff, Gun Violence, M/M, Pining, Prompt Fic, Rescue, Slice of Life, Some angst, there's only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23873689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Prompt: Arthur/Albert. Albert rescuing Arthur for once.'' If Albert could change one thing, it would be to know Arthur Morgan better. He had grown accustomed to being a hazard to himself on a daily basis but drag a compelling cowboy into it and he gets flustered. So small inconveniences would turn into nearly being mauled by wolves, eaten by gators, falling off a cliff and whatnot. Arthur always seemed ready, not tired with Albert, but ready and stable. Something Albert admired but ever since leaving home he had been nothing but a burden so he always told Arthur off, ready to never see him again. Yet he always came back and aided him in his own rough way, be it shooting or scaring wild horses. So when Arthur appears out of the woods on foot, bleeding, hurt and growling profanities, Albert wishes he knew this man better. ''
Relationships: Albert Mason/Arthur Morgan
Kudos: 94





	To know him better

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you @featherinastorm for this prompt. It was nice to write about these two again, it's been a while. This turned out to be longer than I expected hence it took so long. (And that's on procrastination)

If Albert could change one thing, it would be to know Arthur Morgan better. He had grown accustomed to being a hazard to himself on a daily basis but drag a compelling cowboy into it and he gets flustered. So small inconveniences would turn into nearly being mauled by wolves, eaten by gators, falling off a cliff and whatnot. Arthur always seemed ready, not tired with Albert, but ready and stable. Something Albert admired but ever since leaving home he had been nothing but a burden so he always told Arthur off, ready to never see him again. Yet he always came back and aided him in his own rough way, be it shooting or scaring wild horses. So when Arthur appears out of the woods on foot, bleeding, hurt and growling profanities, Albert wishes he knew this man better.

‘’Oh, dear…’’ Is all he gets out before Arthur is past him and other people run behind him, rough and also yelling while shooting blindly in the direction of Morgan. Albert stands frozen through all of this while his horse snorts and bucks in fright by the tree he’s hitched to. The shooting and yelling continues past the woods and then it ceases. Albert has a lump in his throat, he must know if these mean looking men had caught up to Arthur. What if he was dead now that the noises were gone? He packs up his camera and equipment, attaches them to the still nervous horse’s saddle. He gives him a couple soothing pats then takes the reins and warily walks towards the last source of noise. It’s past the last trees where a train track splits the forest in half and an abandoned station sits on the other side. The angry men are there, walking in and out of the house. If Arthur’s in there he must be hidden well because it’s at least five men. 

They don’t seem to accept defeat, now searching the bushes outside and even looking up the trees. Albert’s mind immediately goes to creating a diversion so he can go avail his unconventional friend. He looks around but obviously he isn’t going to find anything loud enough in a couple of berry bushes so even though reluctant to using a gun, he fishes one out his saddlebag. It’s a regular cheap one just meant to protect him at the most intense danger, and he’d rather get robbed than shoot someone. He hides in the trees and walks far enough that the old building isn’t visible and it would either attract the men towards him or scare them off. They don’t look like police. He raises the gun into the air and uses his other hand to cover his ear. He loads it and fires one, two, three times upwards and hopes no poor birds happen to go by. The forest is hauntingly quiet then and he hears no yelling or horse hooves coming his way so he swallows the sickening fear and goes to check on the men. 

They aren’t by the ruins anymore which raises the hope that they just got scared and ran away. Or maybe they’re hiding in there, maybe they caught Arthur. This is bad, this is really bad, Albert thinks and he feels himself sweat as he cautiously makes his way towards the old station. Nobody jumps out from a bush or shoots him so he starts taking more brave steps until he reaches inside the walls. The roof is mostly fallen off and vines grow everywhere. It’s hard to concentrate on finding clues of Arthur as his heart beats like a drum in his ears. 

‘’Gather yourself Mason, he’s your friend....oh,’’ There, on an old rusty metal barrel are dark streaks that look akin to fresh blood when looked at closely. ‘’Arthur?’’ He calls out just loud enough that anyone close by would hear. ‘’It’s Albert Mason, please, don’t be dead.’’ There’s a dragging sound, from above him? His grip on the pistol tightens as he looks up to the only platform still holding up and sees none other than Arthur Morgan looking down at him. He looks pale and his eyes are dull. His left hand is holding pressure tightly on his side that’s soaked in blood. Albert’s throat goes dry. 

‘’Good to see you, Mason. Or not. Help me down?’’ Arthur asks unhurriedly but Albert nods frantically. ‘’Yes, yes come on. That’s- watch yourself.’’ He helps him down the crates and barrels, wincing when he has to drop down with a pained grunt. ‘’Thanks.’’ Arthur wheezes then tries to walk it off only to falter and have Albert hold him steady. 

‘’I think you need to see a doctor, mister.’’ Mason huffs lightheartedly masking his real feelings of the situation. Which are panic and anxiety. ‘’I’ll figure it out you just, go about your day, Mr. Mason.’’ Arthur tries to brush him off but that won’t do. ‘’My horse is outside. Can you hold on for me?’’ Albert says without further discussion and starts guiding him outside. He whistles shortly and his horse appears from where he left him. 

‘’That was you?’’ Arthur asks with a smile. Albert feels himself blush, oh how ridiculous. ‘’It’s not every day you get to save a friend from bloodthirsty vandals.’’ He mutters and Arthur actually laughs, well as much as he can with a hole in his side. He helps the other man on the horse first then gets up himself and blushes again at the hands at his waist and forehead against his back. The horse moves at a steady pace, fast enough but not too rough to make Arthur more impotent. ‘’Who were they anyway?’’ Albert asks quietly. Arthur’s breath his warm through his shirt as he speaks. ‘’Nothing more than what you described them as.’’ 

The Saint Denis doctor arrives quick to help Albert carry him the rest of the way when they get there. At this point he had lost a lot of blood and was barely conscious. They lay him down on the operation table and the doctor gets to work immediately. Albert just kind of stands off at the side with his bloody hands and biting his lip until the doctor gives him a pointed look telling him to wait outside. 

He finds a faucet in the hallway and goes to quickly scrub the blood off his hands. It sends shivers through him, Arthur's blood, on his hands. What if he didn't act? Arthur would be dead in a ruin and he'd probably get mauled by a panther the next day. Bad country. 

The same door they came in through opens and closes and a petite woman with a pale face, dark lipstick and red eye makeup saunters over, who Albert recognizes from the reception. She gives him a mug containing a bland liquid. 

"Bromocarpine tonic, for the nerves." She explains. "I- uh, thank you." Albert says but doesn't drink it. 

"I take the doctor hasn't asked you yet, since the situation is time sensitive. But do you have a payment?" Her voice is icy and french. ‘’Outside but -’’ Albert nervously glances at the door of the doctor’s room. ‘’Do not worry. Doctor will keep him until he’s able to walk properly, you have time.’’ 

That doesn’t give him too much comfort because what if Arthur doesn’t start walking, is there a time limit? What if he dies? Albert would only blame himself. After fetching the only money he has on him from his saddlebag he comes back to the doctor in the hallway, speaking calmly with the clerk. He notices Albert, shoos off the woman and motions for him to follow.

‘’It’s good you got him here when you did. The actual bullet didn’t thankfully stay in him and went through his side but that combined with the other scratches, presumably from bullets, drained a lot of blood.’’ They enter the operation room and there Arthur is: laying still, patched up and shirt wide open, breathing steadily. Albert goes closer to see and grimaces at all the bruises and scratches. The doctor doesn’t say anything more and Albert remembers to pay him. ‘’Thank you, is it enough?’’ The doctor nods and his voice is warm when he continues. ‘’He can leave once he stops wavering though I suggest bed rest. Eating meat, fish, leafy vegetables and dried fruit will do the trick after losing blood, and no riding horses until the worst wound heals up.’’ He presses the last statement. ‘’Thank you, doctor.’’ 

Arthur shifts on the table catching their attention. ‘’He’s on an anaesthetic but should come around soon. I’ll give you space now.’’ The doctor leaves and Albert stands awkwardly by Arthur. His skin is red and irritated all together and his face seems to be in a permanent frown. ‘’Arthur,’’ He says quietly and puts a hand on his arm which is noticeably colder than normal. Morgan tenses up then squints first up at the ceiling then at Albert. 

‘’I feel like shit.’’ He slurs, Albert can’t help but smile. The whole thing is a huge relief. Arthur tries to sit up but grunts and goes back down. ‘’I hate this, feels like my brain is gonna melt and fall out.’’ But he grins with the high which only amuses Albert further. ‘’You’re gonna take it easy for a couple days now, cowboy. Lucky for you I have an apartment here.’’ And since horse riding is out of the question he hopes some resident will be kind enough to give them a ride. ‘’You invite wounded cowboys over often, Mr. Mason?’’ Arthur jokes, flustering him. ‘’Quiet you, it’s the least I can do. How many times have you saved this buffoon by now?’’

Arthur attempts to sit up again and succeeds. He looks at Albert with eyes that are far too clear and joyous for someone who nearly died and is on drugs. ‘’Far too many times but looks like it was worth it in the end.’’ 

They make it outside eventually after Albert stops insisting Arthur to sit down and wait for all of it to leave his system. The man’s steps are unsure but he seems confident enough to get himself out and into a buggy. Despite the rugged situation Arthur still manages to make Albert smile. It goes near smooth as butter, like it’s a normal day for the cowboy. Maybe it is, Albert wants to know. 

The apartment he has is small and unfortunately on a second floor. ‘’This is worse than being shot. I’m an old man, Mason.’’ Arthur complains on the way up. Albert knows that’s not true though, Arthur is in divine shape from what he could see when his shirt was open, and he himself is probably older. He helps him up either way by supporting his back, the man was shot and chased half to death after all. He opens the light door and kicks it shut behind them all the way making sure Arthur doesn’t stumble, and then guides him straight away to the only bedroom. Looks like it’s gonna be couch night. Arthur sits down and hums at the softness of the mattress and takes a moment to just breathe. The air in Saint Denis unfortunately is nothing compared to the great wilderness, outside it’s unclean and inside it’s stuffy. Albert doesn’t quite know what to do with himself but he wants to be useful.

‘’Do you want to eat now or sleep first?’’ He asks. Arthur kicks off his dirty boots and lays down with stiff movements. ‘’I’m fine, Mr. Mason. You’ve done enough.’’ He confirms.

‘’Alright, I’ll just be on the couch next door. Holler if you need anything.’’

‘’Wait-’’ Arthur stops him. ‘’I ain’t gonna have you sleep on a damn couch after you saved my life.’’ He grumbles and looks ready enough to get up again. Albert frowns. ‘’It’s no big deal. You need the bed more than I do now.’’ 

‘’Ain’t happening, I’m taking the couch.’’ He leans up on his elbows but Albert is quick to stop him. ‘’Please, I insist. I mean- look at you.’’ He says quietly. Arthur had closed his shirt but it was dried with blood, he had a cut on his cheek and dark eye bags. They both knew the damage he had under that fabric. Arthur huffs and seems to think about it before laying down again. ‘’Come on then, it’s a two person bed.’’ 

Albert would be lying if he said he doesn’t want to. Everything about Arthur has his attention. He’s a fine man, in many ways even when beat up. The amount of times Morgan makes him blush though is absurd and this is just one of many. Arthur’s suddenly unbuttoning his shirt again so he looks away and rounds the bed to the other side. He sits down facing the wall and lets his thoughts race while taking off his boots. He’s suddenly worried about talking in his sleep or rolling around constantly, god forbid he kicks in his sleep. He hears Arthur settling down behind him, pulling the sheet off and over him. There’s only one blanket, Albert never sleeps with day clothes on, should he take off his shirt as well? Now he’s just loitering. 

At last he removes his socks and shirt before also burrowing under the sheets. Immediately a big yawn breaks off his thought process and leaves him drowsy. He’s a lot more tired than he had felt a second ago. Arthur shifts next to him a couple times then settles while Albert remains in position on his side. Eventually the only noise in the dark room is Arthur’s soft snoring that finally lulls Albert to sleep. 

Waking up early is, by no surprise, Albert’s one strong suit. Having worked in shops and selling newspapers before photography it’s an ingrained habit. He wakes with the first noises of the city: horse hooves hitting rock roads, dogs barking and people chatting, sometimes even police whistles. His neighbor has an awful habit to sing long and throaty in the mornings. Usually he ignores it and gets out of the apartment as fast as he can but due to yesterday’s events, he’s worn out and sporting a headache. He halts awake and is about to pound his fist against the wall behind the headboard when Arthur snorts in his sleep then continues snoring. Albert realizes he had been pressed right against the man when sleeping, the warmth from his arm still on his skin. He gets red from his face to his chest but doesn’t move away. Arthur’s so ridiculously peaceful with his bruises and wounds, he couldn’t bare to wake him. He’ll need food, clean clothes and new bandages. Albert mentally lists the things while watching him sleep but then realizes it’s kind of creepy. The warmth from Arthur had lingered on his skin and now he craves it, and they should probably wake up at the same time anyway.

Albert settles back down, close to Arthur but not touching him. 

The next time he wakes Arthur isn’t there and he panics that he had left. But when he gets up he sees the man sitting in a chair by the opposite wall, scribbling into a journal. Very shirtless still. Arthur glances up from whatever he’s doing and sees Albert sitting up. ‘’Good morning.’’ He says casually. ‘’‘m sorry, have you been awake for long?’’ Albert asks and rubs his eyes. ‘’An hour or so, your neighbor has quite the vocal skills. Don’t know how ya slept through it.’’ 

Albert hums, if he only knew. He slides out from under the sheets and stands up to stretch. The pop of his joints is satisfying. He picks up his shirt from yesterday and wrinkles his nose at the stains, then remembers he was supposed to give Arthur clean clothes as well. ‘’Hope you don’t mind I went through your cabinets. The wraps were pretty disgustin’’’ Arthur says sheepishly and Albert shakes his head. ‘’You are one of a kind mister, to be like that after getting shot.’’ Arthur chuckles at that. ‘’It ain’t my first rodeo.’’ 

The sight of Arthur once he gets on one of Albert’s white shirts is heartbreakingly beautiful. It hugs his form nicely, a little tighter than his own shirt, and highlights his sleepy rugged look with wild hair and an unkept beard. Albert has to excuse himself to prepare them food before Arthur catches onto his blushing and stuttering. What he manages to scrap together is nothing fancy but he remembers the doctors words. Meat, vegetables, fruit - no, not just fruit, dried fruit. He goes through his semi empty kitchen and finally finds a box of dried apricots and raisins. Then he prepares coffee and hopes his way of making it doesn’t ruin it. He sets them all on a wooden tray and takes an actual apple for himself.

Arthur’s not in the bedroom anymore but the door to the balcony is open and his curtains are fluttering with the air. Arthur is leaning against the railing and peeking behind the division to his neighbor’s side. Albert hears the annoying neighbor say something and Arthur laughs in return, then notices Albert and turns back around. ‘’I talked to him. Man says he’s a practising opera singer, also there’s a pig in his apartment.’’ Arthur seems to have fun with that fact and takes a seat in a white chair protected by a shadow. ‘’Oh no, Arthur. I’ve been able to avoid him so well this far.’’ Albert sets down the tray and pushes forward Arthur’s food and coffee. ‘’I hope it doesn’t taste like poison, I barely ever eat at home.’’ Arthur boldly eats a chunk of meat and immediately slurps the coffee after it, and Albert wonders why he ever was self-conscious about the food when the man looks like he eats raw bear meat to live. Hopefully not though, he’d get pretty sick.

While they eat and drink their coffee, Albert stares into the bustling city below and recalls yesterday. Arthur was so hurt, nearly died yet here he is having breakfast with him and even chatting up his stupid neighbor. He had said this isn’t his first rodeo, so how badly has he gotten hurt to react this lightly to this? It’s not fun to think about but Arthur’s the most intriguing person he has ever met. Maybe he still has time to get to know him better.


End file.
